The Real Enemy of a Firefighter
by fanofrandy
Summary: We all know about Johnny's rants—his fervent speeches about whatever is on his mind at the moment.  Well, what if one actually made sense?  Hmmm…this is my first crack at this, so I would appreciate comments.


The Real Enemy of a Firefighter

By: FanofRandy

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Emergency! is owned by Universal and Mark VII Productions

Summary: We all know about Johnny's rants—his fervent speeches about whatever is on his mind at the moment. Well, what if one actually made sense? Hmmm…this is my first crack at this, so I would appreciate comments.

After a busy morning of chores and a smattering of runs; mostly minor; the men of Station 51 sat down to eat a well-deserved lunch. Knowing the Squad had experienced a pretty bad rescue—or lack thereof—the men were busying themselves with quiet tasks as DeSoto and Gage pondered the life that slipped through their hands that morning.

Mike Stoker was cooking. The men liked it when Mike cooked…he had never made a bad meal that they could remember. And, they were always satisfied when they finished his meals..."never let them walk away hungry", was Mike's thought as he prepared his meals for his friends, co-workers and brothers. Cooking was the way Mike showed his love for them…a man of few words…his food spoke volumes.

The mood was calm as the men shared a companionable silence. Uncomfortable with the din of silence, Chet was the first to talk. Noticing Gage was deep in thought, he asked, "What ya thinkin' there Gage." He regretted the words as they left his mouth. Everyone turned their heads to him…including Gage… wondering why in the world he would ask that question. Everyone knew that once you got Johnny started on one of his rants…it would take a miracle (or the klaxon's sounding) to put a stop to it!

But, the bullet had left the gun (so-to-speak) and the men awaited the response…

Gage tilted his head to one side as if he was trying to collect his thoughts. He had been thinking about the victim they lost; a twenty-six year old, single mother with two small children. He thought of those children…"Who would be there for them now? Who would tell them about their mother and how she gave their life for them?" He was certain that, if they had gotten there when the symptoms began, they could have made a difference between life and death…and, then he started his rant…

"You know, most people think that a firefighter's enemy is FIRE. But, the real enemy of a firefighter or paramedic is **TIME**. The time is takes for a burning ember to spark to a flame; the time it takes for the flame to produce enough smoke to be noticed; the time it takes for someone to call for help; the time it takes for us to respond to the scene; the time it takes for us to find the victim and give proper care; the time it takes to transport the victim to the hospital;" and, remembering the morning call, "the time it takes for smoke inhalation to kill an otherwise perfectly healthy young woman…**TIME**!" Gage got louder with each sentence and by the time he was at the last one…he practically YELLED the word TIME.

Everyone was spellbound by his words...they did not even notice that he was yelling. Mike had absently walked over toward the table where Gage was sitting and stared at the man—hypnotized by his words. They were all staring at him. Uncomfortable with being the center of attention (though that was where he often was), he broke the silence again…"What?" he asked.

The men just continued to stare at him…dazed, amazed, and a little confused. What Gage had said actually made sense! Miracle of miracles, the men were surprised that they agreed with his thoughts. Roy was the first to speak; "I think you have something there, Junior." Cap followed with, "I agree with you pal…TIME is certainly our greatest enemy."

Gage sat back in his chair…a slight smile came to his face as the others nodded in agreement and Mike went back to his task of fixing lunch. He savored the "victory" he had, but only for a short time. He quickly remembered the morning run and the TIME wasted in getting help—for a young woman who rescued her children from a burning home; thinking she and her children escaped unharmed; only to die from smoke inhalation two days later.

Mike once again broke the silence—a man of few words—"It's TIME for lunch."

…_"the tide abides for, tarrieth for no man, stays no man, tide nor time tarrieth no man" __St. Marher__, 1225_


End file.
